


Runaway

by runningout_oftime



Category: Club Penguin
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Adult Content, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, Mafia AU, Strong Language, Suggestive Themes, and i couldnt exactly name the fic after lyrics from hit 1980s song Tainted Love, because all my file names are memey :(, humanized pengys, i aint gonna finish this lmao, i had to come up with a title last second, which is what the file was named COUGH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-19 23:39:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16544531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningout_oftime/pseuds/runningout_oftime
Summary: When Rook makes the mistake of turning on The Director and her mafia that controls the island, she tasks his coworker and partner in crime, Guy, with the messy job of "dealing with him". Guy, on the other hand, has other plans...





	Runaway

**Author's Note:**

> ~~~~~PLEASE READ!!!!!!!!!~~~~~~
> 
> All of the characters are humanized!! Please keep this in mind while reading! This fic and its humanizations are based off of the Mafia AU made by @weenierufu on Tumblr. For context: Jpg is now just Guy (there were no jetpacks in the 1920s!), and Rookie is now just Rook; they are work partners and have been for many years. They also, as you will see mentioned, DO NOT GET ALONG. AT ALL. Until now... Paprika is also an oc owned by @weenierufu, and in the Mafia Au he briefly worked alongside Guy before they parted ways.

“Do it,” the words were spoken with a soft inflection, almost gentle in a sick sort of way, a thinly veiled threat hidden behind a venomous sweetness dripping with morbid expectations, “shoot him.”

The utter lack of empathy behind that short, yet powerful, sentence sent a chill down Guy's spine as he felt The Director's eyes on him, cold and piercing. The revolver quivered in his hand as his entire arm seemed to shake with the strain of holding it up, pointed dangerously at the forehead of his own partner. He knew he had to shoot, or else The Director and her goons would kill him, but in the same jagged breath he knew he wouldn't be able to, and the stabbing grief in his chest only reinforced this statement. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face, and he shakily moved his thumb to pull down the hammer of the gun with a soft click, effectively cocking it.

At this movement he heard Rook quietly take in a shaky breath, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation of what would surely come next. It made Guy sick; to see his partner, the man he had known for years, who had personally divulged his fears of death to him only to receive cold silence from Guy, so willing to accept his fate at the hands of someone he thought he could trust. It seemed cruel, and yet Guy couldn't help but wonder what must be going through the man's head at this very moment. Was he scared? Or was he so sure of the repercussions of his actions that he no longer feared death? Surely he must have known; must have known that nobody walks away a traitor to the mafia alive – especially the EPF.

The sound of The Director rapping her fingers against her desk impatiently drew Guy's focus momentarily as his eyes flickered to the side, concealed behind dark sunglasses, to catch a glimpse of the woman leaning forward in her chair almost excitedly. Garry stood beside her, emotionless gaze giving away no feeling, though Guy knew he felt nothing short of apathy – to be expected from a borderline sociopath. If anything, Guy thought, Garry was only analyzing him curiously as if he were one of the man's sick experiments. Though they were hidden behind the intense glare cast across his thick glasses, Guy could feel Garry's eyes on him as well, watching with that cold, analytical gaze. Only someone like him could befriend someone like The Director.

Guy's finger tapped anxiously against the trigger as he thought about what to do next. He didn't want to kill Rook - in fact, it wasn't even a question, he wouldn't do it; couldn't do it. Though, if he wouldn't do it, he knew that The Director or Garry would; which in his opinion wasn't a whole lot better. Thinking, he let his eyes dart around the room as he tried to find the best solution.

In this room alone there was only him, Rook, Garry, The Director, and two goons that The Director kept with her at all time - bodyguards if you will; easily dispatched by someone like Guy. Both of the guards were armed, as well as Garry. Rook's gun had been confiscated long ago, and The Director didn't have a gun in her hand, but she had one on the desk directly in front of her; it wouldn't take her long to reach it... but maybe if he was fast...

"Guy, what is taking you so long-?" Garry seemed to sense The Director's impatience as well, and he moved to act on it so that she wouldn't have to, taking a short step forward, and reaching forward towards Guy.

In that instant everything seemed to start to move in slow motion as Guy instinctually leaned away from Garry's hand, his weaponized arm faltering towards the other man just enough to betray his intentions to The Director; whose intuition led her to start to stand from her chair.

Guy's heart seemed to jump up into his throat, and he glanced around the room rapidly under his glasses, quickly digesting the situation around him in the few seconds he had, and coming to the surest conclusion. He had hoped to gain a few more moments to think about what he was doing before acting, but it seemed as though he wouldn't get that chance. He wouldn't be able to talk his way out of this one either; he had already started to move, he couldn't stop now, could he? Could he pass it off as a stumble; a flinch?

No, he thought - even if he could get away with defusing the tension his action created, he thought that he didn't really want to.

A reckless impulse turned into a split-second decision, and time sped up again as Guy swiftly moved out of the way of Garry, who seemed to realize simultaneously with The Director that Guy's intentions had changed, and had turned his impatient pat into more of a panicked lunge. As a result, the man took a swan dive into the concrete of the dark, cellar-esque room, momentarily incapacitating himself with a sharp cry of pain mingled with obvious frustration. Guy knew that every second was precious; something like that would not keep him down for long, 30 seconds at most, - as frail as the man was, he was a stubborn bastard.

Quickly, he rotated on foot to raise the revolver to point in The Director's direction, interrupting her halfway through moving to retrieve her own gun laying atop her desk. As expected, something as pathetic as a threatening brandish would not stop the woman, so he opted to fire a warning shot into the desk in front of her, splintering the wood with a loud CRACK, and causing her to quickly recoil away from the bullet, unarmed, with a glare that sent a terrified chill shooting down Guy's spine. Still, he persisted.

"Guy, what the hell are you doin'?!" Enough time had passed now, enough seconds had ticked by, for Rook to become conscious of the scene unfolding in front of him as he called out to his partner in both confusion tinged with relief, layered over with fear. A fear that kept him firmly rooted to his place on the ground, fingers digging into the fabric of his pants as wide eyes peered over the top of the triangular shades that had slipped down his nose.

"Savin' your ass, you ungrateful bastard!" Guy hissed, quickly moving to retrieve the second gun that The Director had failed to recover. Briefly, he considered passing it to Rook, but quickly decided against it. Knowing that with the man's aim, he'd probably end up hitting Guy instead of anyone actually useful. Instead, whilst still aiming the first at The Director, Guy opted to swing around towards the goons, all the while keeping a wary eye on Garry who still seemed to be getting over his daze.

As expected, a few seconds later than everyone else, the goons had begun to move, and were halfway through pointing their guns at Guy before he shot his newly acquired pistol twice - once for each goon - without really bothering to properly aim at either of them. He didn't really care where he hit them, fatal or not, so long as he did hit them - and hit them he did. The first dropped to his knees, dropping his gun as his hands moved to clutch tightly at his side where bright crimson was already beginning to bleed through his shirt. The second, staggered by the point blank range of the shot, fell backwards, hands also shooting up to grip at her right shoulder as her pistol clattered to the ground noisily. Both had been sufficiently immobilized.

Moving before Garry got a chance to, Guy next turned and fired another warning shot into the concrete in front of the scientist who had begun to scramble to his feet, causing the man to stumble backwards and lose his footing again, falling back onto the concrete. Finding these conditions sufficient, Guy jolted to move towards Rook, who initially flinched at the sudden movement. Quickly, he hooked one arm under the arm of the other, forcefully pulling Rook to his feet and out of the door, one gun still trained steadily on both Garry and The Director, who made no movements to follow; simply glared after them.

As he shouldered his way out of the room, dragging a reluctant Rook along with him, the door slammed shut behind him. Wasting no time, he immediately began running towards the exit of the giant warehouse facility that the EPF had made their headquarters in. Guy wasn't stupid, he knew that the moment that they were out of the room The Director would have issued the command for every EPF goon within a 50 mile radius to converge on them both, including the roughly 30 - 40 people in this facility alone. They had to get out of here, and fast; and, if they had to, they would shoot their way out of here.

The sound of their shoes slapping against the hard concrete was the only thing to break the silence of this seemingly abandoned area. Thoughts flew through Guy's head, and he chewed on his lip trying to think of all the factors that came along with this absurdly stupid decision, and he quietly berated himself. He knew that the chances of dying doing this were substantially higher than their chances of surviving, and yet he chose this anyways. He hadn't even the slightest clue as to where they would go on the slim off chance that they escaped alive. A part of him questioned why he was even doing this in the first place, and a smaller part of him already knew.

Lost in thought, Guy didn't really notice Rook, who had been trying to get his attention by quietly calling his name, and tugging on his arm. That was, until the man forced them to stop as he suddenly dug his feet into the ground, yanking on Guy's arm, who made a choked noise as he was pulled backwards by the strength of his cohort.

"The fuck do you think you're doin'," Guy started, obviously angry that they had stopped, "we're wastin' time! We have to-"

"Why are you doing this!?" Rook cried finally, fed up with being ignored and pulling his arm away from the smaller man.

Guy scoffed, moving to grab the other man's arm again, disregarding his question, “We don't have time for this, Rook, let's go-"

"No!" Rook jerked backwards, away from the reach of Guy, "Why are you helpin' me! You hate me! You should'a just taken the shot; now they're gonna be after you, too!" His voice dripped with despair, and defeat, as if he had accepted his fate long beforehand, "Wh... why didn't you just... kill me, like Arctic told you to?" He said softly, voice giving out halfway, and half-lidded eyes pointed at the ground, hands clenched into shaking fists at his side.

A sharp pain stabbed at Guy's chest, and he clenched his jaw as it turned into more of a hollow ache. He couldn't help but feel... guilty. Guilty for making Rook feel unwanted and unneeded; useless, even. He hesitated, unsure of how to respond at first, staring at Rook over his glasses with wide eyes. "You know why, you idiot!" He yelled finally, causing the taller man to flinch as he leaned forward in a passionate aggression, as it seemed to be the only way he knew to express himself, "You're my fuckin' partner, I'm not about to go around killing you!"

Still, his eyes betrayed that there was more to it that he couldn't say - not now, not here. Rook blinked in an almost staggered surprise, opening his mouth to say something in response, perhaps a demand for more information. Before he could, though, he was abruptly cut off by a bullet whizzing past his ear, barely missing him by inches. He turned towards the offender in a sudden shock to see 3 goons rounding the corner of the hallway behind them, with a fourth standing ahead of all of them, arms outstretched as he aimed a gun at the two, finger over the trigger, rearing to take another shot.

"Shit." Guy hissed, lunging forward to hook his arm around Rook's again, as his hands were still preoccupied by guns that he didn't really want to put down. He turned to run again, pulling a now much more willing Rook behind him.

Guy's feet instinctually followed a memorized path, down the fastest route out of the warehouse facility. An impatient man, he had made it a priority to find the quickest way back to town from The Director's office long ago. Still, as bullets whizzed by them, barely missing by pure luck, he found himself cursing his short stature and short legs that hindered his speed. This combined with the fact that he couldn't pause to shoot back just made him increasingly anxious, and he quietly prayed that the goons' horrible aim would hold out a bit longer.

Suddenly, he felt Rook's arm slip out from under his own again, and he felt a sort of panicked frustration flare up in his chest as he started to turn to see what Rook was trying to pull this time. He didn't get very far, though, before he suddenly felt strong hands around his waist, and he yelped as he was abruptly and quite roughly hoisted into the air and thrown over the shoulder of his partner in crime.

"The fuck do you think you're doin'?!" Guy shouted once more in another verbal display of intense displeasure, squirming in distaste as he struggled to get back down, "Put me down, you god damned--!"

"Shut up and shoot!" Rook called back, "And quit fuckin' wigglin', do you want me to fall?"

Calloused hands moved to hold Guy in place, and it was all he could do to give in with an annoyed huff. It was only after Rook had replied that Guy realized that he had been thrown in the perfect position to take shots at the people chasing them, and that the two were actually moving significantly faster than they were before - something Guy could only attribute to Rook's, alternatively, obnoxiously long legs. He didn't want to admit that it was a good idea, but it was a pretty damn good idea. He would have to remember to give Rook credit for it later; if at the sake of his own pride.

"Fine, then use this," Guy moved to tap one of his two guns against Rook's hand, urging him to take it, "there's bound to be guys in front of us; try not to fuckin' kill us, will ya?"

He felt Rook take the gun from him, effectively freeing up one of Guy's hands, "I've gotten better, alright!" Rook laughed in response, and Guy could hear the excited smile in his voice. He felt his chest do a little flip at the notion, and frowned, shoving the feeling down and passing it off as simply the adrenaline of running away from the mafia. He would never admit that the feeling was… nice.

A bullet narrowly missing him brought Guy back to the present as it came eerily close to grazing his cheek. He heard Rook swear under his breath as he jerked away instinctively as the bullet flew past him as well, jolting Guy sharply on his shoulder and earning him a pained choking noise in the process. Deciding not to comment on it as he immediately received Rook's mumbled apology, Guy raised his arms to aim his gun at the goon closest to them. This proved to be much more difficult than he anticipated, as the rough up and down movements of Rook running made it difficult for Guy to steady his arm as he bounced along over the man's shoulder.

Deciding to abandon his attempts at getting a sure shot out of sheer frustration, Guy pulled the trigger, firing a semi-random shot and landing it square in the center of the chest of the goon behind the one he had been aiming at. The injured man almost immediately fell backwards, and Guy wasn't sure if he was dead, or simply incapacitated. Either way, he found that he didn't particularly care, and pulled the hammer back on the gun, firing another shot, and this time lodging a bullet into the leg of the one he was originally targeting, causing them to trip and fall over, nursing a bullet wound.

A shot that he had not fired rang out from directly behind Guy, and he twisted himself around to see that Rook had put his newly acquired weapon to good use as he caught a glimpse of another EPF lackey that had been blocking their way fall to the ground. Unfortunately, there was more than one in front of them, and he heard Rook swear under his breath as they both seemed to simultaneously realize that they wouldn't be able to get through.

Glancing around and quickly taking in their surroundings, Guy bit his lip before spotting a longer, but alternative route that he had previously mapped out. Suddenly, and a little roughly, he jerked to the side causing Rook to veer off towards the left in an effort to keep his balance. “Quick, turn here!” He hissed, and Rook was quick to obey, dodging out of the way of a flurry of bullets that would have surely hit them had they stayed on the same path.

It seemed that this action took their pursuers by surprise, as Guy had plenty of time to take out another 3 before his line of sight was broken by the corner of the winding hallway that Rook had ran down. Luckily, they didn’t have much further to go, so Guy suspected that besides the goons trailing behind them, they would not run headfirst into any more besides perhaps the two that always guarded the front entrance.

“Where now?!” Rook asked almost panicked as they came up to a crossroads. Again, Guy had to twist around to see where they were before he could reply.

“Left!” He called back, and Rook again turned on foot down the left hallway.

One thing Guy would admit about the EPF headquarters was that its layout was infuriatingly complicated. The path that they had originally been heading down was the most straightforward way out, but one wrong turn would land you in hallway with a maze of twisting and winding paths, many of which led to dead ends. This being said, the next several minutes of their escape was spent partly on Guy having to crane his head to look behind him in order to direct Rook, and partly on picking off goons that would occasionally catch up to them.

By now they had blazed a trail of blood and bodies behind them, and in the rush Guy had forgotten to count his bullets. As yet another two mafia members rounded the corner behind them, Guy raised his pistol to fire a shot, only to find that the trigger simply clicked blankly as it failed to find a bullet to fire. Grinding his teeth together in frustration, Guy flicked his revolver to the side, popping out the barrel in the process and found that the cartridge was empty.

“I'm outta bullets!” He yelled back to Rook, flicking the barrel back into place.

“Shit,” Rook swore quietly, before starting to move to hand his own gun back to Guy, “here, have th-"

“Keep it!” Guy abruptly interrupted Rook, swiping at the man's hand to decline the offer, “You'll need it for those bastards up front! I was mostly tellin' you that so that you would run faster!”

He heard Rook scoff at him, but nevertheless as another bullet whizzed past he felt them start moving ever so slightly quicker as Rook pumped his legs faster than he ever had before – a feat he could certainly brag about considering the added weight over his shoulder. Anxiously, Guy dug his free hand into the back of Rook's shirt, twisting his fingers into the fabric. In return, he felt Rook's hand on his back shift to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. It was a simple gesture, but it went miles towards calming the smaller man, as well as making his stomach do another little flip.

Another rounded corner and Guy saw the two men who had previously caught up to them slow down and disappear from sight. They had lost them, for now, and at this point they should have been nearing—

“The exit!” Rook suddenly cried, and Jpg twisted himself around to see that they had in fact reached the main entrance of the EPF headquarters.

Rook, begrudgingly, bent over and set Guy down with a strained noise. They weren't quite free yet, but they were close enough that Rook didn't need to carry Guy anymore, and so instead Guy opted to jog on his own towards the exit, his heart seeming to shoot up into his throat as he had the final realization that they had made it, they had managed to escape alive – or so they thought.

At that moment, a shadowed figure stepped out in front of them to block their way, and Guy immediately went on the defense, catching Rook in his peripheral view raising his gun to shoot, before pausing as they both realized simultaneously who it was that stood in front of them.

“My friends,” they spoke, stepping more into the light, a look of almost sadness splayed over their face, “I do not know what to say, but that I feel disappointment.” Guy's heart seemed to sink as he recognized the heavy Russian lilt in their voice, and a face that was surely too soft to belong to the Mafia.

“Look, Spice--” He started, recognizing the man standing in front of them as Paprika, an EPF lackey he had trained himself, and who had worked himself up to higher rankings. Everyone knew Paprika, but they more commonly just knew him as “Spice", being unable to remember which spice he was named after.

“Paprika.” The man corrected Guy, cutting him off with a hint of disdain. He tilted his head to the side, watching the two of them over the brim of his glasses quietly for a moment, “I never thought it would be you.”

Guy sucked in a breath at that sentence, realizing that he never thought it would be him either, before Rook sharply brought him back to the present with an elbow to the ribs, earning him a sharp hiss and glare in return. Rook had hesitated in shooting, too – perhaps because Paprika was always a favorite, or he knew of Guy's relationship to the man, or perhaps simply because he showed no obvious signs of hostility; but either way it was evident that Rook was looking for the signal to open fire on Guy's word. It was with a heavy heart that Guy realized that they, or rather, Rook, would stop at nothing to get away – no matter who they had to go through.

“Paprika,” Guy corrected himself, “I don't want to have to hurt you, but if you put up a fight then we will.” He paused for a moment, returning Paprika's gaze with a more steady, unfeeling one, determined not to betray his true feelings over this situation, “It would be in your best interest to walk away, kid.”

Paprika seemed to ponder over this question for a second, still just quietly observing the two, as if daring them to shoot. Guy wouldn't miss the hint of hurt that flickered in the taller man's eyes, though, at Guy's seemingly lack of emotion. Eyes scanned his face, almost like they were searching for some kind of connection, before falling to the ground when they found none, “Ah, but would it?” He asked quietly, “You see, it is my job to watch door. If Director finds out I let you go…” he trailed off, seeming to think that the rest was self explanatory – it was.

Again, Guy bit his lip, realizing that Paprika spoke the truth. The man seemed genuinely conflicted over what to do; caught in a tug-of-war between his fear of The Director, and his loyalty to his mentor. Unfortunately, the fast steps in the distance that seemed to be growing closer only signaled to Guy that he didn't have time to talk Paprika down from this, and he sighed, seeming to come to a final conclusion as to what he had to do.

“I'm… I'm really sorry for this, kid,” Guy said, and Paprika's head jerked upwards in a sort of alarmed panic. Obviously those were not the words he wanted to hear. Guy, on the other hand, turned and quickly took the gun from Rook, who made a soft noise of disgruntlement, and took a short moment to aim as carefully as he could before shooting Paprika in the leg.

Crying out in pain, the man dropped to his knees, grasping at the spot where Guy had shot him. In the process of being abruptly crippled, he unintentionally allowed the two to run past him. Confused betrayal briefly flashed across his face, before his eyes met Guy's and it changed into understanding. In the most emotion Guy ever dared to show, he attempted to offer some sort of nonverbal explanation – a look, a gesture, a mumbled “stay safe, kid". To anyone not privy to the silent conversation that passed between them, Paprika had been injured in the process of stopping Guy from leaving, and thus excused him from the accusation of allowing his mentor – a traitor – to walk free.

The pair disappeared into the undergrowth of the forest just before several agents spilled out of the warehouse and into the clearing that they had just vacated. While a few were ordered to spread out into the forest to search, a few others stayed behind to tend to Paprika, who couldn't help but quietly wish for the best for his old friends, and that they wouldn't get caught. In his head he was already formulating a script, an argument, something that he could present to The Director as an explanation alongside the evidence that Guy had so keenly provided him with. Though he winced as he was helped back inside, he felt grateful to his mentor, and still in awe of the trail he had blazed – a level of skill Paprika would never be able to catch up to.

Now dashing through the woods, short path to civilization only dimly lit by the sunlight that managed to streak through the overhanging treetops, Rook couldn't help but let out a whoop of victory that echoed through the area, disturbing several birds from their perches with agitated squawks. Guy, in turn, hissed for him to be quiet, pointing out that there were surely still some of those bastards nearby, and Rook slapped a hand over his mouth, almost embarrassed of his actions. Secretly, Guy thought that the man's excitement was rather cute – endearing if you will – and he allowed a small smile to slip onto his face whilst turned away from his partner.

The wooded area in between the warehouse and town was really quite small, and the two only had to run for a few minutes before they burst back into familiar wide streets, swathed with the midday traffic of people getting on and off of work. Easily, they disappeared into the crowd, weaving through an array of people and glancing over their shoulder every so often to check if they were being followed – which they almost surely were, even if it wasn't immediately obvious.

EPF goons lurked around every corner, and in the time that it had taken them to fight their way out of the warehouse, The Director would have already had a personal courier deliver message of their betrayal to their entire territory by now. To counter this, Guy, suddenly and without warning, grabbed Rook's wrist and pulled him out of the crowd and into a nearby alley, where they disappeared into the shadowy darkness of that enclave, hidden behind the large dumpsters and conspicuous airs that were typical of crime-laden areas such as these.

At the rough movement, Rook yelped, beginning to ask Guy what was going on, before Guy aggressively shushed him, pushing him down behind a dumpster and scooting in next to him, peering cautiously around the corner of it and into the crowd of people. As expected, a few moments passed and two people, who they had not noticed before, stopped just outside of the alley, glancing around and scratching their heads in a very obvious frustrated confusion. Of course, they could have just been random passerby who were, clearly, lost, but Guy was much too paranoid to believe that. Had he not pulled them aside, they would have gotten caught. A few more moments later and the two men sighed, tucking their hands into their pockets and leaving. Guy allowed a breath of relief escape him, as he slowly turned back to Rook, who was still thoroughly confused.

“There, we finally lost ‘em,” He said in a hushed voice, “should be safe to go out now.”

With that, he took a step to leave before being roughly grabbed by the back of his jacket and pulled back, eliciting a soft cry from the small man as he stumbled backwards onto the pavement, “Not so fast,” Rook hissed into his ear, “you said it yourself, we're safe now, so we ain't goin' aaaaanywhere till youse explains yourself.”

A flurry of stutters and half sentences spilled from Guy's mouth as he discordantly expressed his aggravation, “What the fuck do you mean explain myself?” He hissed finally, whipping around to glare at Rook – although it couldn't have been too effective, considering they were both wearing sunglasses, “Does it look like we have time for this?”

“Well, hell, there innit anyone here but me and you, Guy, so, yeah, it does,” Rook fired back, and Guy scoffed, turning his head to the side bitterly, “you wanted to say somethin' earlier.”

Guy quietly cursed himself for leaving himself so visibly emotionally vulnerable back at the warehouse, and still refused to make eye contact with Rook, “I don't know what you're talking about.” He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly.

“Why did you save me?” Rook repeated his same question from earlier, more insistent than before now.

“I already told you, you dolt!”

“Well that isn't enough!” Rook snapped suddenly, voice raising ever so slightly and almost startling Guy who finally looked up to meet Rook's eyes again, the both of them peering over the tops of their glasses now, “There's more to it than that, innit there? Why did you save me?!”

In a moment of weakness, Guy couldn't help but allow a great overreaction to overcome him as he himself seemed to realize and come to terms with his own feelings at the same time that they spilled from his lips, “Because I like you!”

A hush fell between the two of them, and Guy almost immediately moved to slap a hand over his mouth as a swarm of thoughts flew through his head as though he had just swung a bat at a wasp's nest of uncertainty. Had he really just said that? Why did he say that? Well, he knew now without much doubt that it was true – it must be true – but why had he said it? Surely it would have been in his best interest to just stay quiet, or to have said literally anything else.

For once in his life, Guy felt completely and utterly helpless, and the look on Rook's face only served to intensify his feelings of distraught. For once in his life, Guy had no idea what the other person was thinking. Was Rook simply processing the statement? Was he mulling over his growing disgust? Was he plotting of ways to run away from Guy as well as the EPF? Lost in a sea of anxiety and romantic frustration, Guy finally tore his eyes away from Rook's face to again stare at the ground, not caring that his sunglasses had slipped down to the tip of his nose, hanging by his ears loosely.

“What did you just say?” A whispered question finally drifted from Rook's throat, and Guy tried desperately to swallow what felt like a rock lodged in his own.

“I…” It took another moment for Guy to work up the courage to repeat himself, letting his hands fall slowly and shakily from his face and down into his lap, where he would stare down into his palms as if they were the hands of someone else – as if they didn't belong to him, “I like you,” he repeated with hesitation, “this entire time I always kept tellin' you how much I hated you, and how much of a screw up you were when really it was just me. I was the screw up. Maybe at the beginning I didn't like you so much, I don't know, but I know now that I was wrong, and that I…” a breathy laugh escaped him, and he shook his head, “that I really, really like you.”

Another brief pause as Guy took a shaky breath before continuing, “I kept tellin' myself that no, there's no way, that ain't it, and it's like the more I tried to tell myself that it wasn't the case, the more sure I became that, yeah, actually, it was, and I didn't know how to deal wit’ that so I kept trying to… ta hurt ya, thinkin' oh yeah, sure, that'll help. And then that… fuckin' guy came around and really screwed everythin' up.” he squeezed his hands into fists as he felt a sort of anger, a familiar sort of jealousy, start to bubble up in his chest again, “I got jealous cause he seemed to be quickly makin' you like him, and he always treated you right, and saw you for what you really were, and I was gettin' left behind in a game that I didn't even wanna play. So I started lashin' out at you and I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that, you don't deserve this.”

Again, Guy shook his head, working up the courage to look towards Rook now; still not at his face, but rather at his hands as he started fidgeting with his own awkwardly, “Truth is, Rook, you're fuckin' fantastic at what you do. Every time I yelled at you to do better or try harder was really jus' me tryin' to bring you down to my level. I've gone through every god damned hired muscle in that godforsaken place and none of ‘em ever compared to you. You're so much better than them. You're so much better than me.”

“But that's not true!” Guy jumped as Rook suddenly spoke, leaning forward to object loudly to what Guy was saying, “That ain't true, Guy, this entire time I been admiring you! Like you were always way ahead'a me. I ain't so good with my words, Guy, you and me both know that, and I always felt like… like I was dumb, or like my only purpose was to punch things and I couldn't even do that right. But nobody does what you do as good as you do it, either, Guy! I went through all sorts of people, too, and none of ‘em even came close to bein’ able to talk to people like you could. You were always so… so great, and it was always so frustrating because I like you, too!”

It seemed like Rook was just as equally taken aback by what he had just said as Guy was when he had first said that same thing. Shock, and regret, and fear crossed over the other man's face almost all at once as he came to the end of his ramblings. It was obvious that he expected rejection.

“I-I'm sorry,” Rook spluttered, recoiling away from Guy, “I shouldn't’a said anythin', I'm so-"

Guy didn't bother waiting for Rook to finish his – unnecessary – apology. Cutting Rook off mid-sentence, he leaned forward to grab either side of Rook's face, and pulled the man back towards himself, crashing their lips together in what had to be the most insane, and least thought through impulse Guy had had to date; omitting their recent escape from the EPF, of course. Guy felt Rook tense at first and let out a small noise of surprise – though, he could not see Rook's expression as he had squeezed his eyes shut at the exact moment their lips touched – but quickly he relaxed into it, shifting to return the display of affection with an equal, if not greater, sense of eagerness.

It was a strange sensation for Guy. Of course, he had had others before, but never anything particularly committal. Being in a line of work like the mafia, it was unwise to start any serious relationships unless your partner was clear on the fact that your odds of dying were far greater than your odds of living. Starting a family was unideal, if not frankly just unthinkable, and so the only men, or women, that Guy had ever taken were mostly on a nightly basis, and they lacked any serious connection or any kind of deeper emotion. There was never any love. There was never anything like this.

This was a fact he was made distinctly aware of as he felt Rook push back against him, calloused hands brushing softly over his own before sliding up his arms to finally rest on the sides of Guy's neck and jawline in a movement that made a shiver run up his spine as he seemed to unconsciously melt into the touch. Normally, Guy would be rather uneasy about someone's hands being anywhere near his throat, but at the moment his mind was far too fuzzy to focus on anything other than the kiss, and the way that Rook tilted Guy's head up ever so gently as he stretched out to sit up straight instead of leaning down to match Guy's height. As this happened, Guy slowly moved his hands down from Rook's face, and onto his chest to instead tangle his fingers into the fabric of the other man's shirt.

Almost entirely forgetting the fact that they were, in fact, still sitting hidden in a dark alley, Guy would admit that this was… nice. More than nice, really – thrilling would be a better term; the wonderful chapped texture of Rook's lips and the subtle taste of cigarettes on his breathe, masked by a much stronger minty flavor. Desperately wanting more of this, he tilted his head to the side ever so slightly in an effort to encourage and egg Rook on – but oh god they were still in an alley.

Quite nearly as abruptly as it had started, Guy ended it, roughly shoving Rook off of him and holding him at arm's distance as a dark flush passed over his cheeks. He felt his entire face heat up upon realizing what had just taken place, and opted to ignore the confused look on Rook's face, instead hopping to his feet with a panicked sense of urgency.

“What's wrong?” Rook asked quietly, a tinge of worry working itself into his confused tone, “Did I do somethin' wrong?”

“No!” Guy whispered back in a sort of breathy, whisper-shout, “I mean, n-no, we just, we can't do this here.”

Rook let out a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh as he leaned back on his hands, peering up at Guy with a look of petty amusement splayed across his face, “Like you've ever had a problem with that before.” He jeered at the other man, and again, Guy's face lit up in a bright red that managed to further darken his already dark skin tone.

“Shut your mouth, that ain't what I meant!” He snapped defensively, earning a snicker from Rook, “There's still people out to fuckin' kill us, Rook, we can't stay here. It's only a matter’a time before they find us.”

He turned away from Rook, peering around the corner of their cover to glance out into the street. It was still quite busy, which was to be expected considering that they weren't there for terribly long, but traffic had died down a little. It would make it easier for them to spot EPF lackeys, but it would also make it easier for the lackeys to spot them. From behind him, he heard Rook suck in a breath. “Okay, okay,” He said softly, and Guy could hear the disappointment in his voice, “you're right…. But…” He paused, and Guy looked back at him expectantly.

“But…?” Guy parroted, raising an eyebrow before noticing the genuinely worried look on Rook's face.

“Where will we go?” Rook finished his sentence, looking up at Guy as if looking for some kind of guidance, a direction to follow. Unfortunately, he could not find any as Guy's heart seemed to drop upon hearing this question.

“I…” He started, hesitating as he desperately searched for the right words – for any words other than, “I don't know…” His shoulders slumped as the words left his lips anyways, and he looked down at the ground almost ashamedly.

The truth was, Guy had no idea where they were going to go. He hadn't thought that far ahead – he hadn't been able to think that far ahead. This entire thing was brutally spontaneous and allowed no room for prior planning. Everything had to be thought of on the spot with crossed fingers that it would work, and now, in this moment of brief reprieve, Guy genuinely could not think of what to do next.

In the area they were in now they weren't safe by any means – as he said before, it was only a matter of time before the EPF found them if they were to continue hiding within EPF territory. Leaving this area wasn't exactly an option either considering that the neighboring territory was Jaydon's – a brutal gang leader with a personal vendetta against the EPF. He took no prisoners, and a swift death was almost unheard of under his tyrannical hand. They would be in even more danger if they tried to hide there than they would he if they stayed here. That was just fact.

Guy dropped to the ground once again, staring at the cold concrete with an expression that was an odd mixture of defeat, and puzzlement as he seemed to wrack his brain for some kind of solution. Anything more viable than staying here. He almost didn't hear Rook speak up at first, “I… think I might know somewhere we could go.” He said softly, and it took Guy a moment to process the statement and respond.

“No shit, really?” Guy asked, sitting up again and turning towards Rook with obvious interest, “Where?”

Rook scratched the back of his neck, letting out a nervous laugh, “I got a sorta… safe house?”

“What d'you mean, ‘safe house'?” Guy blinked a few times, obviously confused.

“Well…” He hesitated, “you know all those times I'd disappear for hours at a time and you an’ everyone at the warehouse could never find me? Then when I'd come back you'd sit there and chew me out for runnin' off fer like 10 minutes straight?”

Guy's face turned a little sheepish as he did, in fact, remember all those times, and was suddenly struck with an acute sense of guilt once again for how he had treated Rook in the past, “Er,” he stuttered, glancing away and answering relatively quickly as an indication of wanting to move away from this topic, “yeah.”

Rook, seemingly unphased by the recounting of such events, visibly lit up, “Well you see, where I was runnin' off to all the time was this little abandoned shack in the woods. Call it a sort of escape; a place I'd go where you-" now his face turned sheepish as well, and he nervously corrected himself, “where nobody could find me. I… fixed it up real nice, too!”

Guy had caught the falter, but elected to ignore it, instead prioritizing the existence of somewhere safe that they could go, “And you're sure that the EPF ain't got a clue where this place is?” he asked, almost overly excited.

“Pft,” Rook scoffed, waving a hand at Guy dismissively, “not a chance. I would'a known if they did seein' as how I go every other day or so.”

“Rook, yer a goddamned genius,” Guy breathed, reaching out to grasp the sides of Rook's face affectionately as he spoke, “where is it?”

“U-uh,” A bashful flush crossed Rook's face, obviously unused to praise and any kind of nonviolent physical touch, and he stuttered to get his words out, “I'll show ya, it's towards the mines.”

Brushing Guy's hands off of him almost hesitantly, Rook made to get to his feet. Of course, Guy's first instinct was to yell at Rook to try and be a little more stealthy before you blow our freakin' cover, but he stopped himself. Figuring that if the man had managed to sneak away to this place before going totally unnoticed, then he must have some experience maneuvering around EPF patrols. He would admit, though, that in times like these he sure would've liked to have Dot on his side. 

 

 


End file.
